


Bird on a Wire

by lamentomori



Series: Everything Tends Towards Entropy [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Friendship, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 14:44:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13413474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamentomori/pseuds/lamentomori
Summary: Everything continues to fall apart. In Takahashi Marty's found a friend, or an ally, or at the very least someone who understands, unfortunately, his world is falling apart too.





	Bird on a Wire

Marty wakes early. He always has, but being awake and getting out of bed are two very separate things. Takahashi sleeps deeply, and grabs in his sleep. One arm is wrapped firmly around Marty’s waist, not holding him close, but very much preventing him from moving away. He’s sure his phone had been in his coat pocket, but it’s on the bedside cabinet when he wakes up, along with a glass of water. He assumes Takahashi set them on the cabinet, but it seems like an odd amount of care to give someone he'd just brought home to fuck. The whole thing left Marty staring at the lunatic clinging to him, and trying to understand how they both came to be in this position. There is no reason for him to have stayed the night with Takahashi. There’s plenty of reasons for them to have fucked, but none for Marty to still be here. He should have left once the fucking was done, but he hadn’t. He’d let Takahashi hold him. Then, he’d lain awake for a few hours staring at the ceiling, absently petting Takahashi’s hair, because it’s soft, and it made Takahashi snuggle him. In turn, that had made Marty lie there trying to imagine if Omega would snuggle him. Even if he got the fuck he wants so badly, he’s sure he’d get nothing soft or sweet from him. It would be hard and fast, Marty’s face pressed against the mattress, or wall, or whatever surface he was being fucked against. He’s accepted that he’d at most get a fuck, there is little chance that he’d ever be made love to, no matter how much he might want that, it’ll always be out of his reach.

“Why are you awake, Birdie?” Takahashi’s eyes are still closed, his voice is soft, and his lips moving against Marty’s skin is the only concrete indication he’s awake.

“Birds get up at dawn, didn’t you know that?” Marty mutters as he twists to better see Takahashi. He rubs his face against Marty’s arm in an oddly affectionate way, almost like he was trying to scent Marty.

“Hmm…” Takahashi looks up at Marty, watching to see what Marty will do, obviously waiting for a cue on how they’ll be proceeding from now on, but he has no idea. He should have left hours ago. “It’s cold. Stay till the heat comes on.” Takahashi pulls himself closer, pressing flush along Marty’s side. “You sleep badly.”

“How do you know? You sleep like a dead limpet.” Marty makes a blind, but careful, grab for his phone, and checks the time. It’s not even six yet, but he’s got missed texts. All of them from Cody. One bitching about Omega not commiserating with him after he got pinned. Another bitching about Tama, which seems like a very bad idea to Marty. The third is long and makes little sense. It lurches through emotions wildly and ends with _don’t leave me!_ Cody is a mess, but then again so is Marty. He can’t really judge Cody’s messiness when his own is a pressing concern.

“Senpai said nothing?” Takahashi plucks the phone from Marty’s hand, and flicks the unsilencing switch. Takahashi fiddles with the phone, and rests his head on the pillow near Marty’s own. “I wonder if I would bother him…” He raises up the phone, presses his lips to Marty’s temple, and snaps a picture, the shutter sound effect startlingly loud. “Pretty little Birdie.” He coos, and sets the phone down on Marty’s chest. Honestly, Marty doesn’t care enough to look at the picture. He’ll delete it later, once he’s out of Takahashi’s apartment. It seems rude to delete it now, and if he looks good in it, he’s sure he can edit out Takahashi somehow.

“Would Naito-senpai give a shit?” Marty glances over at the top of Takahashi’s head, and wonders what expression is on his face in the silence that follows his question. He’s half-convinced Takahashi has fallen back asleep, when he moves away from Marty to lie on the other side of the bed with his back turned.

“Long ago he would have cared. Now...I don’t think he’d notice.” Marty glances over at Takahashi, and flicks his phone back to silent. He sets it down on the cabinet, and turns to lie on his side, closer to Takahashi.

“He noticed once though?” It’s not cruelty that has him asking these miserable questions of Takahashi, it’s something else. Intrigue, nosiness, something that makes him want to understand a little of the man he had sex with last night.

“Long ago...long before I was anything, he noticed. He thought me something when I was nothing and now that I am _something_...to him I’m nothing.” Takahashi laughs bitterly, and Marty trails delicate kisses over his tense shoulders. “But...” Takahashi trails off, and seems to relax entirely. After trying for so long to be noticed by his senpai, it’s nice to have it re-confirmed that he knows what he’s doing when it comes to sex. Takahashi makes a quiet little noise, and catches one of Marty’s hands, pulling him closer.

“For what it’s worth...I think…” Marty isn’t willing to finish that sentence, but that’s mostly because he’s not certain what he thinks. He’s not familiar enough with Naito and Takahashi. There’s a lot about Japan he’s not familiar with.

“Maybe one day, when I am nothing once more.” Takahashi murmurs, his voice is so quiet he might have been speaking solely to himself. He could say something supportive, he _should_ say something supportive, but instead, Marty presses another kiss to Takahashi’s shoulder, and lies quietly behind him. He doesn't notice he's fallen asleep until his eyes open again, and there's light filling Takahashi's bedroom.

“I should get going...we’re supposed to be having a celebration breakfast.” Marty had never been very good at just lying still like this, and it’s surprising that Takahashi seems to be content to lay motionless.

“Oh?” Takahashi doesn’t move. Marty gives him a few moments longer, and gets up. “The toilet is the second door.” Takahashi sounds listless, and doesn’t turn around, but Marty’s fairly sure that there’s not much he could do to draw Takahashi out from wherever he’s led himself. Sometimes you need to make your own way out of the labyrinth.

The bathroom is as bland as the living room. It’s like Takahashi has this place to show people who don’t _know_ him. A veneer of normal over the chaos that lies beneath, but Marty can’t judge. Back in England he has his own flat, blandly decorated as the landlord wanted, the most personal belongings in the whole place is Marty’s ever growing collection of broken umbrellas. Each one has a story attached to it in his mind, but there’s no-one to listen to those stories, no-one who cares enough to know over whose back he broke each one. He should throw them out really. They’re rubbish.

Once he’s finished in the bathroom, he returns to Takahashi’s bedroom, and perches on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. The malaise he’d been trying to wash off last night is back. He wants away, or out. Something that lets him feel like he’s not trapped. Takahashi engulfs him in a firm hug, plastered along Marty’s back, his legs around Marty’s waist, which makes him feel better somehow.  

“Someone’s noticed you’re missing.” Takahashi’s breath is warm and damp on his skin. Five missed calls, several texts, so many that the phone isn’t telling him who all these missed attempts at communication are from. Takahashi starts kissing his neck, as Marty plucks his phone from Takahashi’s hands. Every missed call is from Kenny. The texts are a mixture of The Bucks and Cody, but Kenny called him. A text wasn’t immediate enough for him, he wanted hear what Marty had to say instead of reading it.

“I should go.” Marty drops the phone to the bed, and grabs his clothes. Takahashi unwinds himself from around Marty, and leaves. He can hear the quiet roar of a kettle boiling as he pulls on his shirt. He’ll shower in his hotel room, if only to save him from causing more concern in his _friends_.

“Hmm.” Takahashi nods as he offers Marty a cup. “Tea...I know you English like tea.” Marty nods, and pats the bed beside him. “What did he say?”

“He called, but no texts.” Almost comically, Marty’s phone chirps with a new text. “Until now.” It’s a simple message. _You OK?_ It’s no more than it needs to be, but the way it makes him feel, it may as well be a declaration of love.

“Drink your tea, I’ll drive you back.” Takahashi sips at his own tea, staring at the wall in front of him. Marty considers what he should say back to Omega, if he should say anything at all. It’s a simple question, and he should say something, but he can’t think of anything worth saying. So, he sets his phone on the bed again, and drinks his tea.

“Give me your number.” That request probably features on a list of bad ideas Marty’s had, but he wants it. He wants to know that he can get in touch with Takahashi again. He has the feeling that he’s going to need someone who understands him in the future. Takahashi holds his hand out for Marty’s phone.

“I’ll call me.” He explains as a phone starts ringing in the living room. He tosses Marty his phone back, and leaves to get his own. “Why do you want it?” Marty shakes his head at that question, and saves Takahashi’s number.

“Everything’s falling apart, isn’t it?” Marty laughs, and drains his cup of tea. He gets to his feet, and walks over to Takahashi. “And right now, I think we’re the only ones who know that.” Marty wraps his arms around Takahashi’s neck, and draws him into a kiss.

“Fallout shelter fuckbuddies?” Takahashi laughs, and Marty shrugs with a smile. “FSFB…this is how I shall save you, Birdie.” Takahashi laughs again. He seems more like himself, and Marty actually feels like he’s okay. It’s the first time he’s felt that way since he arrived in Japan, so he’s not complaining.

The drive back is loud, and fun. Impromptu carpool karaoke that spans decades, and continents. It’s with an oddly heavy heart that Marty leaves Takahashi’s car. He thinks he’s made a friend, at the very least he’s made a fuckbuddy, which in many ways is more useful than friends. Technically, Bullet Club are his friends. At the thought of them, he glances around the reception of his hotel. No sign. He makes his way to the elevator, trying to remember what they’re supposed to be doing today.

“We missed you at breakfast.” Marty can’t help but fumble his keycard at the sound of that voice. He’s so close Marty can feel the warmth of his body all along his back. “Did you have a nice night?”

“Yeah...I uh...I figured I wouldn’t be able to sleep, so I went out and…” It's an awkward, stumbling justification he doesn’t need to make. It makes no difference to Omega why Marty’s returning to his hotel room in the morning after not sleeping there. Omega isn’t going to care unless it affects Bullet Club, and really even then he probably wouldn’t care.

“I hope she was good to you.” Omega laughs and steps away, stooping to pick the keycard up from the floor.

“He.” A look crosses Kenny’s face. A look that Marty can’t meet for more than a second, his eyes drop immediately to the keycard that’s held out to him. It was angry, or shocked, or bitter, something Marty isn’t certain of, and is almost certainly over-thinking.

“Oh.” It might be a single syllable, but Omega’s tone is rough, and Marty can’t bring himself to look up. He’s not sure if he’s embarrassed, or ashamed, or something else entirely. “Well…” Omega tilts Marty’s chin up, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I hope _he_ was good to you.” He moves Marty’s hair from where it’s fallen into his eyes, and Marty stares at Omega’s lips. He can’t meet the cool blue of his eyes, but the soft pink of his lips is almost as bad. “We’re having a celebration dinner tonight, seeing as you _and_ Cody missed breakfast.” Kenny smiles at him, and presses the keycard Marty had forgotten about into his hand.

“Kenny...I...be careful, okay?” Kenny looks confused by that, and honestly Marty is too. There are a million things he’d like to warn Kenny to be careful of, but he’s not in any position to offer advice. More importantly, there's a million things he could have said that’d be less awkward.

“Careful?” Kenny laughs, wearing the most naive smile Marty has seen on the lips of a grown man. “I hope you were, Marty.” He steps away, his naive smile turning wry. “Have a shower, you smell like sex.” With that he leaves, and Marty drops the keycard again. They have press, obligations that have to be met, and there’s no escaping that. There’s also no escaping the memory of Omega’s tone as he told Marty to shower. His senpai has noticed, _finally_ noticed, but that’s just going to cause Marty problems. Omega noticing is going to make Cody notice, and he doesn’t want to be a pawn in whatever it is Cody thinks he’s doing.

“Everything’s falling apart.” He mutters the words, trying to shake the squirming feeling in his stomach. Everything is falling apart. It feels like a motto, or a mantra, or maybe a warning.

Everything fell apart.

 _Everything_.

Fell.

Apart.

Cody wouldn’t listen to him. He tried to stop it. He tried, but his trying didn’t matter in the end, because Omega _did_ stop it. Then got himself knocked on his ass. Marty can’t blame White for turning him down. No-one would want to be part of this sinking ship.

Marty had slipped away as soon as he could, and wanted to hide. He’d ended up on the periphery of Ingobernables territory, hoping to find Takahashi, and seek solace in his company, but he’d retreated fully when the Ingobernables locker room cleared except for Takahashi and Naito. He’d supposed that Takahashi had caught his senpai’s notice, which is nice. Apart from Takahashi telling him only a few hours ago that he thought his senpai would only notice when he was _nothing_. Hiromu isn’t nothing. He’s _something_. What that something is to Marty is up in the air, but Takahashi Hiromu means something to Marty Scurll, and that's oddly important to Marty.

He heads in search of the most secluded shower he can find. He’s got about an hour before they’re meeting for food, a _Being The Elite_ cast celebration dinner that’ll end with hurt feelings and possibly noses. It’ll be a mess, but he wants to face it feeling somewhat human. He wants to try and wash as much of his malaise off as he can.

The shower he finds is running, and a peek inside has Marty smiling as he strips. Takahashi is already halfway through his shower by the look of the bubbles being washed down his back, but it feels like it doesn’t matter. Marty needs the warmth of another person who understands, and Takahashi understands. His arms wrap about Takahashi’s waist, he rests his forehead just beneath the nape of Takahashi's neck, and is finally still. For a moment, nothing matters but the water on his back, the silence in his mind, and man in his arms.

“Everything falling apart?” Takahashi asks him softly, his hands on Marty’s forearms. Marty sighs, and lifts his head to rest his chin on Takahashi’s shoulder.

“Isn’t it always?” He laughs, and considers taking a hold of Takahashi’s dick. He doesn’t have time to waste on mutual handjobs if he wants to go to this _Being The Elite_ dinner, but he really doesn’t want to go. The fight that’s going to happen is one he doesn’t need to hear. He doesn’t need to see Omega snarling and sneering and defending Ibushi. He doesn’t need to see Cody snapping back, and trying to drag Marty into it on his side, because Marty isn’t on Cody’s side. The Leader said _anyone but him_ , and even without all the drama, all the desire, all the inherent bullshit, Omega is the leader, and he told Cody no. Cody broke rank. Cody broke the rules. Cody fucked this up. It’s Cody’s fault everything is falling apart, and Marty doesn’t want anything to do with helping him avoid the fallout.

“It’d still fall apart without either of us.” Marty hadn’t noticed that Takahashi had turned in his arms, until that murmur in his ear. Marty hasn’t anything worth saying to that attempt at reassurance, he has nothing but a sudden and deep exhaustion. “Wash. We’ve work to do.” Takahashi pulls away from him, a slight smile on his face. “ _Senpai_ may not notice, but we should still be there.” He laughs, and offers Marty his shampoo. His tone was light, joking almost, but his eyes are blank. He understands why Marty is here, and trusts Marty to understand why he’s there too.

“Hiromu.” Marty slips his hand into Takahashi’s soaked hair, and draws him into a kiss. It’s nothing like any kiss they’ve had, but Marty’s certain that’s because for the first time Hiromu _is_ who he wants to be kissing. He kisses Marty back with a surprisingly timid tenderness. It feels like he's who Hiromu wants to kiss as well. One of Hiromu's hands trails down Marty's back to rest at his waist and draw him closer, deepening their kiss.

A sudden, loud, angry bang on the door has them jolting apart.

“Takahashi.” It’s not shouted, but said loudly enough to be heard over the water, and in another room. It’s not angry, but has Takahashi scrambling to finish bathing, and shooting Marty indecipherable looks. Marty follows his lead, and washes quickly.

“Naito.” Takahashi whispers to him, his voice almost lost in the sounds of the water. “Naito...I...I thought he’d leave with everyone else. I thought...there’s…” Takahashi looks genuinely distressed, and Marty wants to offer him some manner of comfort, something to stop him from literally wringing his hands under the cooling spray of the shower.

“Hiromu.” Marty pulls him into a hug, and feels the tension seep from him. “Hiromu.” He repeats himself, trying to make the syllables of Takahashi’s name sound right coming from him. “It’ll be okay, and if it isn’t...come have dinner with The Elite.” Takahashi snorts in amusement at that.

“Thank you, but this be okay.” Takahashi pulls away, and taps Marty on the nose, a wry smile twisting his lips.

“You know, anonymous sex with someone you actually care about is the worst.” Marty turns the shower off, and pretends to not notice Takahashi’s wince.

“I need you to remember that.” Takahashi looks at him seriously, and throws Marty a towel. He’s making a point, but Marty knows in his heart, gut, and head he’ll ignore it. In the little locker room Takahashi freezes at the sight of Naito, and Marty almost collides with his back.

“So...any messages you need me to pass on?” Marty smirks at the blatantly fuming Naito as he slips past Takahashi with as much confidence as possible. He looks more than ready to lunge at Marty, and killing him. He'd take whatever beating Naito’s considering giving him happily if it meant he got to avoid this dinner, but instead he gets a blank look, and Naito unclenching his fists. Takahashi slinks past Marty unobserved, but definitely not unnoticed. “Nothing to G.O.D about the tag belts from Sanada and Evil?” Marty lets the towel around his waist drop, and sits on the bench to start getting dressed. Naito’s positioned himself between Takahashi and Marty. If Marty was more generous, he’d assume Naito was trying to defend Takahashi’s modesty, but he knows the look on Naito’s face. He knows the scowl of a possessive man. “I don’t think you’ve anyone interested in the junior tag belts...and no-one’s dumb enough to go for the Kenny Omega occasionally remembered, red belt of anything to keep him from coming for Okada again.” Marty laughs, and stands up, pulling his underwear and trousers up in one move. Naito approaches him, and curls his hand around Marty’s neck, pulling him close. He studies Marty carefully, a malicious glare in his eyes, and talks in low, sharp Japanese that Marty doesn’t understand, but knows the tone of. There is violence in that tone. Violence and danger, and something thickly carnal. Takahashi appears over Naito’s shoulder, a tense smile on his face. “He gonna beat the shit of out of me?” Marty addresses Takahashi, because he’s sure Naito hadn’t been and isn’t going to talk to him. Takahashi shakes his head.

“No.” He speaks softly, fondly almost. That tone seems to change something in Naito. His eyes narrow, his blank expression is replaced by something. Marty doesn’t know Naito. He doesn’t know what the look in his eyes is, but he can guess. Whatever had drawn Naito to Takahashi in the first place is still there, it’s just been stamped down firmly. Takahashi’s senpai is still fond of him, and Marty’s almost jealous of that.

“Get dressed.” Naito moves away to the other side of the little locker room, sits on a bench, and pulls his cap over his eyes. Marty stares at him until Takahashi forces him to meet his eyes. Marty tries to give him a reassuring smile. He fails. Takahashi fingers tighten on Marty’s chin for a second, then he taps him on the nose.

“Lemme know you’re okay.” Marty mutters. Takahashi nods. Takahashi will tell him he’s fine, but he’ll know it’s a lie, and maybe they’ll talk about it. They won’t, but the maybe is as sweet a lie as being fine.

“When you can, do the same.” They’ve forged an alliance, a strange one that probably shouldn’t exist, but it does. A alliance of rejected, broken underlings that just want thing to stop falling apart. “Have a safe flight.” Takahashi says it loudly enough for Naito to hear once Marty is dressed. Takahashi had finished pulling on randomly printed clothes a few minutes ago, and is as presentably dressed as he ever gets.

“See you later.” Marty forces himself to smile cheerfully, trying to look like a friend saying goodbye, trying to hide the fact he knows Takahashi is going to make bad decisions that will get him hurt as surely as he knows he’s going to do the same. Takahashi presses a hand to his face, and forcibly wipes the smile away.

“Not for me.” He mutters, and glances over at Naito. He’s gotten to his feet, and is holding close to his chest Takahashi’s stuffed cat. When he notices Takahashi looking at him, Naito holds it out.

“You forgot it.” He says coolly, shaking the stuffed toy a little. Takahashi shoulders his bag, gives Marty as much of a smile as he can, and walks over to take the cat from Naito. His shoulders are drooped, his steps ponderous as he follows Naito out of the locker room. Whatever is going to happen between them has happened before, is going to happen again, will happen in the future, and Marty hopes it’s okay, but knows it isn’t. He hopes his new ally isn’t going to be too badly hurt by what his senpai does to him, because he might need Takahashi to put him back together after this friendly dinner with friends.

They make it to dessert, or more accurately, Omega orders nothing but the world's largest ice-cream sundae, seemingly intent on having a screaming match after his pudding, but not wanting to waste time. Cody manages to be even worse than a furious Omega. It’s all like something out of _Hollyoaks_. He sat there wondering why his life is a terrible soap opera, and not a decent one like _Eastenders._ He’s certain that Takahashi would like _Hollyoaks_ , and based on their performances, he’s sure that both Omega and Cody would like it too.  Perhaps he can negotiate things remaining together using the Sunday omnibus, and a tin of _Family Circle_. Omega leaves in a flurry of anger, silence lingering in his place. The Bucks break the silence, laughing off the tension. Brandi leaps at that laughter, and joins in. Cody hasn’t moved more than taking another drink, which is one thing more than Marty. Everything is falling apart, and if he isn’t careful he’ll be crushed by the debris. He stands up, and sets some cash down on the table.

“I’m gonna call it a night, guys.” He mutters, knowing that the only person watching him is Cody, and wanting little more than to punch him so hard his lisp is cured.

“Your flight’s early, huh?” Cody takes the cash from the table and pockets it. “Have a good one, Marty.” He offers what might be a smile if you didn’t look at his eyes. Cody is aware that when everything crumbles, Marty is probably going to oppose him. Marty nods rather than answers, and escapes out into the night. His hotel, and getting away from all of this, is close.

“Huh...I really thought at least Matt would have come and gotten me.” Omega’s leaning against a lamppost, his phone in hand, and tension in his shoulders.

“He still might.” Marty keeps his eyes on the ground, which makes hailing a taxi hard. Omega comes closer, close enough to drape an arm over Marty’s shoulders, and for his presence to be all Marty can think of.

“You’re leaving so early? Did I miss you having a moment too?” He laughs, but stops as soon as he realises Marty isn’t. “What?” He moves to stand in front of Marty, trying to meet his eyes, but Marty is evasive, looking up the street for a taxi to get him out of this situation. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” Marty shakes his head, and flags the taxi going past. “I’ve an early flight...I should.” He gestures to the taxi. Omega waves it off, telling the driver he’s not needed.

“Come home with me.” It’s either an offer or an order, and Marty can’t tell which. Kenny catches his chin, and all but forces Marty to look at him. “Come home with me, please... _just_ for tonight.” There is nothing Marty wants more than to refuse this, whatever it is, and leave, but Kenny’s hand has crept from his chin to the back of his neck, his thumb moving over Marty’s skin, leaving a tingling trail in its wake. He can’t refuse that gentle caress.

“It’s an _early_ flight, Kenny.” Marty forces himself to look away. His flight is comparatively early, and he needs to get to Narita, not Haneda for it. So, this isn’t a lie so much as an extension of the truth.

“I’ll book you a cab.” Kenny pulls him a little closer, almost close enough to kiss. “Lemme take you home.” There’s an edge to his voice, a tone Marty can’t describe because it makes him melt. If he’s being seduced, it’s working.

“My stuff.” Marty knows he’s going to follow Kenny. He knows it with the same miserable certainty that had Takahashi trailing after Naito.

“I’ll book you an _early_ cab, and come help you pack myself.” Kenny closes that last little sliver of distance between them, pressing his lips to Marty’s in a kiss that is nothing more than a tease, but has Marty clutching at the lapels of Omega’s jacket. “Come home with me, my little crow.” He wants to go home with him. There’s almost nothing Marty wants more than to go home with Kenny, but he can’t. He can’t have that memory in his brain. It’ll hurt far more than what he’s about to offer.

“I’ve already paid for my hotel room.” He smiles. The smile he’d given the middle-aged man last night. The smile he’d not given Takahashi because what happened between them was at least honest. Omega grins at him, pulls him into a kiss that consumes every part of Marty that can think clearly.

He keeps kissing Marty throughout the taxi ride, and the elevator ride, all the way to his hotel room. In the room, Omega pauses. Something flickers over his expression, his mouth opens and closes a few times, almost like he’s trying to find the right words for something. But, Marty is already seduced. He doesn’t need to hear sweet nothings from Omega. He wants this over with. He’s wanted this fuck for so long, but now that it’s tangible, he wants it over with. He wants to curl up on the bed and just sleep, so he can get away from all of this faster. He strips his shirt off quickly, not meeting Omega’s eyes, no matter how heavy, how _desperate_ that gaze feels, Marty can’t bring himself to look Omega in the eyes.

“Hey…” He takes a hold of Marty’s hands, stopping him from undoing his flies, and draws him into an embrace. “Wait a minute, hmm?” Kenny’s hands run up and down Marty’s back. “Just lemme…” He laughs softly, and squeezes Marty tightly. “Just let me, okay?” He pulls away enough to make it almost impossible to avoid looking him in the eye. A single finger traces over Marty’s lips. “Okay?” He looks at Marty, a look that’s as close to hopeful as Marty’s ever seen.

“I’m already seduced.” Marty murmurs, his voice annoyingly wispy. Kenny smiles at him, a diaphanous quirk of his lips and softening of his eyes. He doesn’t say anything to that, instead he kisses Marty. It’s worse than the kisses on the way to this hotel. It’s not an inferno of a kiss, instead it’s the breeze of a summer’s day. Soft and warm. A kiss that could make Marty believe that this means more to Omega than just making sure Marty stays at his side when everything is broken.

“Lemme try and seduce you some more anyway, hmm? I don’t get to seduce people very often.” Kenny’s hands on him are and aren’t as he’d expected. It’s uncomfortably pleasant. He handles Marty like he’s made of glass, all delicate caresses, and careful strokes. When they’re finally naked, and on the bed, Kenny pauses once more. He looks nervous, his fingers fluttering tentatively over Marty’s chest, teasing and tantalising in their indecision.

“Lube?” Marty makes the decision for him, and catches the back of Kenny’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. “There’s some in the drawer...condoms in there too.” Kenny nods absently, and kisses the tip of Marty’s nose. Takahashi tapping him there drifts to the front of his mind, but Marty forces it back down. He doesn’t squash Marty when fetching the lube and condom, and somehow that makes him laugh at the memory of Takahashi squishing him last night. He's determined to keep Takahashi from his thoughts from now on, but the memory is too much.

“What?” Kenny glances up at him, from where he’d settled between Marty’s thighs. “I mean I’m not complaining about your laugh, but I would be mildly put out if you’re laughing at me.”

“Nah, not you.” Marty gives him the softest, sweetest smile he can, because he has no idea what else to do. Kenny gives him a smile back that is just as soft, and just as sweet, then he slips a finger inside Marty’s ass. He kisses Marty after that, breaking it with a lazy smile, and a second finger easing inside. It’s a very thorough preparation. One that has Marty searching for, and taking Kenny’s cock in his hand to see if such thoroughness is needed. He’d expected it to be big, but he’d not expected it to be as heavy as it is. Thick, heavy, and warm. He doesn’t bother to hold back the moan at the thought of the cock in his hand inside him. He moves his hand slowly, up and down, stroking Kenny’s length, his thumb rubbing the head, spreading the gathered pre-cum. There’s four fingers inside him now, prying him open, spreading lube, preparing him for the cock he’s teasing. And he is teasing. Kenny’s hips buck into his hand, and every time he tries to shift so he can focus on prepping Marty, he gives chase. In the brief time Kenny’s in his hotel bed, Marty wants memorise the feeling of the cock in his hand. He wants to learn its length, its width, its feel and shape. He wants to know all of this as well as he knows his own cock, lying firm but neglected on his belly.

“I’m gonna need that.” Kenny says eventually, pulling his fingers out, deeming Marty open enough. He wants to tell him not to bother with the condom. He wants to feel Kenny’s cum spurted into him, but he knows better. It’s safer for all involved to use protection. “You ready?” That soft smile is back on Kenny’s lips as he lines his cock up with Marty’s ass. He can feel the head rubbing against him, teasing easing its way inside.

“Fuck me, and we’ll find out.” Marty smirks at him, and for a second Kenny looks scandalised. Then he shakes his head, kisses Marty’s nose, and penetrates him. Kenny’s strong. It’s something Marty’s always known objectively. He can pick fully grown, _big_ men up and toss them around like they’re nothing. He knows Kenny’s strong, but somehow until this moment, until being pressed against a mattress, he’s never realised _how_ strong Kenny actually is. In his delicate restraint, his strength is revealed. His hands under Marty’s shoulders, his thick arms acting as a cage, his solid body between Marty’s thighs, all of it screams of a strength that Marty has never fully understood before. His eyes fall almost closed, watching Kenny through his lashes, moaning softly with each thrust into him. He wants to give Kenny permission to fuck him, but he’s almost afraid to. The harder thrusts leave him in no doubt that Kenny’s holding back. If Marty were still hopeful, he’d say that this was a preview, that next time he’ll get the full experience. But, hope left Marty a long time ago. He digs his heels into Kenny’s back, and clings to him, trying to encourage him to move faster. It doesn’t work. It makes him stop altogether, and stare down at Marty.

“Ride me?” It should have been an order, but it comes out as a tentative question, and Marty can’t help but chuckle. “What? I’m not doing _that_ bad a job, am I?” Kenny buries his face against the side of Marty’s neck, pressing soft open mouth kisses too his skin that bring last night and Hiromu to mind.

“A _terrible_ job.” Marty chuckles again, and shoves at Kenny’s shoulders. He’s solid. A solid mass of thick muscle, and beautiful golden skin, firm and tall and thick. He’s everything Takahashi hadn’t been last night. “Lie back.” Marty shoves at Kenny’s shoulders again, and almost marvels at how small his hands look on Kenny’s body. He’s a short man, but Kenny isn’t _that_ much taller, yet his hands look almost comically small. Kenny flips them, a sudden move that feels like wrestling, so it’s familiar and comforting in the face of being fucked by Kenny. “Or that.” Marty laughs a third time, and awkwardly rearranges himself.

“I’ve pictured this.” Kenny’s smiling up at him, and bucking his hips, which shorts out the parts of Marty that know what this is, and leaves only the parts of him that blush and smile, and focus on moving on Kenny’s thick cock. Kenny’s still staring at him, and if Marty didn’t know better he’d say the look in his eyes was awe. “Just like this...you riding me…” He surges up suddenly, and wraps his arms around Marty, holding him closer, trapping his weeping cock between them. “You gotta tell me to shut up, my little crow. I'll embarrass myself if you don't.” He fucks up into Marty has he moves down, driving his cock deeper, and Marty further into a daze.

“Kenny.” Marty gasps in his ear as his cock rubs against his prostate. “I’m...I don’t care...I’m not listening, my ears don’t work.” It’s ridiculously far from what he had hoped to get out as Kenny fucks him, but it seems to amuse Kenny into fucking him a little harder, and slipping a hand between them. Kenny’s hand on his dick is exactly what Marty had imagined. It’s tight, it’s reassured, it’s teasingly efficient. Those long fingers curl around him, and bring his orgasm closer and closer, until it hits, and there’s nothing but white noise in his ears, and the dull pleasure of Kenny’s thrusts into him. He’s only dimly aware of Kenny coming, or of him pulling out. The next thing Marty is certain of is being collected into Kenny’s arms. He lets Kenny do as he will. He wants his memories to be of Kenny’s own chosen actions, not the ones Marty wants him to take. It’ll make his future extrapolated fantasies better, closer to the real thing at least. And really, so far there’s been so little that hasn’t met up to Marty’s desires. Kenny’s been exactly what Marty wanted him to be, which is at once gratifying and depressing.

“You aren’t how I’d imagined.” It’s not far from what Marty had expected to hear. The quiet voice, the contented tone, the almost reverent touches to his back are nothing like he'd imagined though. Either Kenny is an amazing actor, or Marty has misjudged his intentions. The thought that somehow his _senpai_ is noticing sincerely is ridiculous though. This whole incident only came about because of Ibushi, and Cody, and the fact that everything is falling apart. Omega is making sure he has at least one person other than The Bucks on side, nothing more.  

“I guess not.” Marty mutters, not having an answer that isn’t pitiful, or accusing to offer.

“Better, it was better, my little crow...did you...I mean...was it okay?” Kenny looks desperate, awkwardly uncomfortably desperate. He pulls away a little, enough to look Marty in the eyes. “What’s wrong?” His hands frame Marty’s face, his gaze holds Marty hostage. There’s nothing he can do to escape how much he knows this is going to hurt him.  Marty shifts, presses his forehead to Kenny’s, and revels in the way Kenny immediately draws him into an embrace. He could almost believe this. He could almost believe that this was what Kenny wanted, that _he_ was who Kenny wanted, but he knows better.

“Yeah...I’m just tired, Kenny.” Marty whispers, wondering if Kenny will understand that it’s not just that he’s sleepy, wondering if Kenny will care that Marty is exhausted by the stress of watching everything crumble in Omega’s wake. Omega doesn’t respond. He holds Marty close, in a silence that feels almost comfortable. A kiss to his forehead is the last thing he registers before he falls asleep.

He wakes up alone. He hadn’t expected anything less than that, but somehow it still hurts. He’d expected cool sheets, but he’d wanted Kenny. The toilet flushes, and the bathroom door opens. A very naked, very fluffy Kenny emerges, ruffling his hair, and yawning. Marty stares at him, hoping to not be spotted staring, but unable to stop. He hadn’t expected Omega to still be here, and is mildly unnerved by it.

“I figured you’d have left.” Marty sits up, and shuffles to perch on the edge of the bed. He keeps his eyes on the carpet, not wanting to look over at Omega, not wanting to deal with what will hurt in the long run even if it’s nice now.

“I said I’d help you pack.” Kenny flops down behind him, curling himself around Marty, his head on the pillow, smiling up at him. “But, you didn’t unpack in the first place.” Marty glances over at him, and regrets it. Omega is a handsome man, and his smiles are beautiful. Being the sole focus of his attention is difficult, but Marty forces himself to endure it as he gets to his feet, and heads for the bathroom. “I’m sure they’ll be running the breakfast service, if you want me to order something.” He pauses at the door, and looks over at Omega. He’s sitting up, his eyebrows knit. “Or I can go...if you want…” He sounds off, annoyed or upset, something close to one of them. Marty’s torn between screaming yes and no. Kenny looks up at him, and Marty shakes his head. It’s cheating. The desperately cute puppy eyes are cheating.

“I don’t want to keep you from...I’m sure you’re busy.” Marty takes a small step backwards into the bathroom. Kenny comes over to him, a hand on his hip, pulling him closer.

“Not busy.” He brushes a kiss over Marty’s temple. “Go have your shower, and I’ll order breakfast.” He’s smiling again, looking at Marty in a way that makes his skin feel three sizes too small. Marty nods awkwardly, keeping his eyes focused on Omega’s collarbone. It’s safer to look there. It’s safer to not see that sweet smile, or his pretty eyes, or any part of Kenny really.

He retreats to the shower with a bundle of clothes, his phone in the middle of it. He can hear Omega talking to room service, and switches the shower on. His flight isn’t for hours. It’s only just six, he's hours to kill and no idea how to kill them. His phone has one message. _OK._ It’s a bleakly simple message, and Marty wants to call Takahashi to demand more information, because okay is horribly lacking, okay makes him think that everything is anything but okay.

_Omega’s still here. I’m not OK._

It’s a very honest answer to Takahashi's request that he be updated, and gets a reply very quickly.

_I want to talk to you_

He hesitates on how to reply. He wants to talk to Hiromu too, but with Omega there, he can’t call his friend to complain about him and how everything is falling apart because of him.

_My flight is at three...take me to Narita?_

_I’ll be there at 10 =^-^=_

He steps into the shower, shaking his head at the silly emoji Takahashi ended his text with, but relieved that he’s okay enough to send emojis, and to take him to the airport. As much as it shouldn’t, it gives him hope for the first time, in a long time, that maybe not _everything_ is falling apart.

**Author's Note:**

> Part two, because I seem to be committed to this tale now.


End file.
